


best-laid plans

by intuitionist



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, all your 7dream feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intuitionist/pseuds/intuitionist
Summary: When you’re under SM, one of the first things you learn is that the company always has plans. Short-term plans for a promotional cycle. Mid-term plans for an artist’s next year. Long-term plans for the entire talent roster, the kind that go on a Powerpoint slide at stockholder presentations.(Donghyuck stares down his impending graduation from Dream and avoids talking to the one person who knows what it’s like: Mark.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 18
Kudos: 189





	best-laid plans

**Author's Note:**

> Read between the lines of the relationship to whatever degree makes you happy.

When you’re under SM, one of the first things you learn is that the company always has plans. Short-term plans for a promotional cycle. Mid-term plans for an artist’s next year. Long-term plans for the entire talent roster, the kind that go on a Powerpoint slide at stockholder presentations. 

When you’re a trainee, you struggle every day to make sure you’re part of them.

When you’re a debuted artist, the struggle is something quite different.

* * *

It’s the night before they leave for Neo City Singapore, and Donghyuck is too tired to make good choices after returning to the dorm after a late Dream practice. So instead of eating, showering, or God forbid packing, he’s decided to lie face down on the couch for a bit while his brain tries to wind down.

“Donghyuckie, wake up.” It’s Taeyong’s voice, followed by a thin hand on his shoulder. “You can’t sleep here.”

“Not sleeping.”

“Uh-huh. How was practice? I didn’t hear you get in.”

Donghyuck waves his hand vaguely in the air to indicate it was fine. 

“Hmm. Go to bed. We won’t have much time in the morning.”

“Soon.” 

“Liar. We’ll have to drag you out of bed as usual.” He feels Taeyong’s hand ruffle through his sweaty hair, taking away any sting from his words. “You’re working hard, Donghyuckie.”

“You, too, hyung.” Donghyuck turns his head enough so he can see Taeyong’s tired, worried face. His blue hair is caught back in a headband; he’s probably just washed his face. “You go to bed. I promise I won’t sleep here.”

Taeyong’s smile is skeptical, but he knows better than to force the issue. Eventually the line of light disappears from under Taeyong’s door, and Donghyuck is pretty sure he’s the only person awake in the fifth floor dorm. He wonders vaguely what time it actually is, but he’s too lazy to dig his phone out of his pocket to check. He’s trying to work up the energy to get to the bathroom to brush his teeth when he hears the quiet beep of someone punching the entry code into the front door. He pulls himself into a sitting position expecting to see a manager hyung and finds himself looking at Mark’s slightly guilty face.

Mark is wearing his oldest, most shapeless hoodie, and his glasses are slipping down his nose. Donghyuck doesn’t even have to say anything before Mark is sputtering an explanation. “Taeyong hyung told me there was still watermelon in your fridge. The hyungs ate all of ours upstairs.”

This merits a time check. Donghyuck whips out his phone. “It’s 3:02, Mark.”

“I really wanted watermelon.”

Donghyuck manages a laugh. “Of course you did. Go on. I’m not stopping you.” He tips his head back against the couch cushions and lets his eyes drift shut again. He refuses to do the math of how little sleep he’s going to get. He hears Mark’s footsteps, the soft creak of the fridge door opening and closing, the snaps of a tupperware lid. Then the couch cushions are dipping as Mark sits next to him, a line of warmth along his right side.

“Do you want some?”

“You can have all of it.”

“Sweet.” For a while, all Donghyuck hears is the sound of Mark eating. Eventually Mark’s shoulder nudges his, and Mark says, “Singapore tomorrow.”

“Stop me if I try to perform the wrong song.”

“Haha. Same here.” 

Mark and Taeyong have been practicing with the SuperM hyungs this week in the short gap between concerts. Donghyuck has said all the right things about the new project group, and he genuinely means them. He’s offered congratulations. He’s hyped Mark up in all their group chats. He’s still strangely aware that they haven’t talked seriously about it, not just between them. Here in the night, though, with the only light coming from the bulb above the kitchen sink, it feels safe to ask, “How are the practices?”

“Less weird, but still weird. Good, I guess. Not sure they won’t change the title song again. Management can’t seem to make up their minds.”

“They’ll run out of time at some point. Do you know when they’re announcing things?”

“No one’s told us. Probably after Dream promos.” Mark doesn’t ask if the company’s said anything about graduation. He knows he’d know if they had. And it’s not fair for him to ask Donghyuck what he thinks about it, just like it’s not fair for Donghyuck to ask Jeno, Jaemin, or Renjun what they think about it. His voice brightens when he adds, “It’s such a good song, Donghyuckie. Czennies are going to love it.” He hums the topline of “Boom,” his fingers tapping the beat on his knees.

“You think?” Donghyuck has reached the point of comeback preparation where he’s not even sure he likes their own song anymore. He knows that will change when promotions begin and he gets to see the fan response. The last week is always brutal.   


“I know it,” Mark says, with that earnest confidence that’s one hundred percent Mark Lee. He bumps Donghyuck’s shoulder again. Then Mark’s standing up and tugging Donghyuck to his feet, too. It’s easier to let himself be pulled up then to resist. Where Mark finds this energy after 3 a.m., Donghyuck has no idea. “Time for bed. You, too.”

Donghyuck lets himself be pushed gently in the direction of the bathroom, though he’s not above a bit of grumbling. And posturing. “Bet I can still be ready before you in the morning.”

“Doubt it. Loser buys everyone’s drinks at the airport.”

“You’re on.”

In the morning, Donghyuck oversleeps and only makes it out the door in time because Doyoung packs half of his bag for him. He sees the empty watermelon container on the living room table as he’s hustled out to the waiting van.

* * *

When you’re an SM artist, you know the company always has plans, except when they don’t have a fucking clue. You also know that you’ll probably be one of the last people to find out what any of those plans are.

* * *

The SuperM announcement falls on the internet like a dead whale. It takes precisely half a second for the fans of all groups involved to start bickering. Donghyuck trusts it will blow over. The albums will sell, and so will tickets for the inevitable tour. He mostly appreciates it for the distraction it offers from the obvious questions about Dream’s future. 

“Boom” promotions are in full swing, so he’s spent a lot of nights lately sleeping on the extra bed in the Dream dorm to spare everyone--especially their long-suffering managers--the extra drive to the 127 dorms. On the evening of Jaemin’s birthday, he walks into Jaemin and Jisung’s room without knocking and hears the conversation come to a complete halt when they see his face.

He pretends it didn’t happen. “There’s no more toothpaste. Do either of you have some?”

Jisung finds some squirreled away in a backpack from an earlier trip. (His attempt to name a price for it ends when Donghyuck points out that he benefits by not having to smell Donghyuck’s breath in the morning.) 

Jaemin finds him later, when he’s tucked into the extra bed in Jeno’s room and scrolling through his messages. Mark’s left birthday greetings for Jaemin in their group chat, but he’s off filming something with SuperM and missed out on the cake at midnight. Not that they really ate any of it after smashing it into Jaemin’s face.

“We weren’t talking about you.”

“It’s your damn birthday, Jaemin. Don’t apologize.”

Jaemin sits down on the end of the bed without asking, squishing Donghyuck’s feet without remorse. “Jisung was upset by what the DJ noona said. You know, about graduation.”

Donghyuck puts his phone down and pokes Jaemin’s side instead. “Does that happen a lot?"

“More lately.”

Jeno comes back from his shower, scattering drops of water as he dries off his hair. Donghyuck and Jaemin both protest when he flicks water in their direction. Then he catches their expressions and his grin fades. “Oh, this is a meeting.”

“Jisung,” Jaemin says, with a nod in the general direction of his shared room.

“Ah, the radio show, right?”

“What about Junnie?”

The door opens, and Renjun slides in, drowning in his oversized sleep clothes, before easing the door closed behind him. “I think you’re talking too loud and Jisung will hear if you keep at it,” he hisses.

Jaemin says in a stage whisper, “Junnie’s like us. He gets angry before he gets sad.”

“Fucking company,” Renjun says. He squeezes next to Jaemin, squashing Donghyuck’s feet some more.

“Ow!” Donghyuck kicks half-heartedly at Renjun’s leg, and Renjun just shoves right back.

“By this time last year, they’d already started talking about Mark’s graduation and year-end schedules,” Jeno points out reasonably, ignoring the scuffle on the other bed. 

“I’m pretty sure that if they ever had a plan, they’ve forgotten it now,” Jaemin says. “Happy birthday to me.”

“They don’t even have anyone ready to debut, except maybe Sungchan,” says Jeno, referring to the tall rapper trainee who’s been around forever. At one point, everyone was speculating that he might be added to Dream. Then Jungwoo’s addition to 127 was rocky at best, and Sungchan never ended up being introduced as a rookie. It wasn’t hard to guess that anyone added to Dream as Mark’s replacement was going to be eaten alive.

“I’m guessing this is not the conversation we have with Jisung,” Donghyuck says. 

“Absolutely not,” Jaemin says. “We tell Jisung that we’re fucking SM and of course it’s going to be fine. The company can add twenty kids younger than him and I’m still going to pull his cheeks and call him maknae.”

“Basically Jaemin annoys him out of his funks,” Jeno says.

Renjun adds, “It’s surprisingly effective so far.”

After the others head to their own beds, Jeno tells Donghyuck, “We didn’t tell you because he’ll notice if you feel sorry for him. Just treat him the same as always, even when you don’t want to.”

“Fucking hell, Jeno.”

“Yep.” 

Donghyuck opens up his chat with Mark before falling asleep.

_ It’s Jaemin’s birthday and everyone’s sad. _

When he wakes up, he has two missed calls followed by a message.

_ Call me. _

* * *

They play phone tag all morning, until Mark sneaks out of a recording session and calls Donghyuck from a bathroom. Donghyuck can hear his voice echoing off the tile as he whispers, “How are the kids today?”

“Mark, we can talk later. I know you’re recording.”

“I didn’t realize-- I mean, I knew there hadn’t been any announcements--”

“Hyung, you know how it gets during promotions.” Sometimes the chaotic pace is a gift, and you go from schedule to schedule running on adrenaline and adulation. Other times the exhaustion creeps up on you, and you become sensitive about everything, until you snap at whoever is nearest. Donghyuck isn’t easily embarrassed, but he still cringes whenever the hyungs decide to tease him or Mark about the summer they could barely be civil to each other. The Dreamies don’t bring it up, even though they usually have the least mercy about this sort of thing. It’s not an amusing memory to them either.

“Hmm.”

“The managers told us about another festival performance next month that I’ll miss. We’ll be in New York.” 

The hardest part is that Donghyuck loves being in 127. He can’t imagine not performing with the hyungs. He adores being the maknae. He competed hard against all the other trainees to be chosen for debut. It was never actually his choice, but given the choice, he would do it again. He hasn’t asked, but he’s pretty sure Mark feels the same way.

“It’s always better to have schedules than not.” Mark sighs. “They’re probably looking for me, I should go.”

“Later then.”

“Are you coming back tonight?”

“We have a late fansign, so I’ll probably sleep at the Dream dorm tonight.” 

“Then tomorrow.”

They end the call. Donghyuck briefly considers the irony of missing someone you see more than your own family. Then a manager pokes his head into the room and tells him it’s time to head to the hair shop before their afternoon fansign, and he puts on his game face for the rest of the day.

* * *

Word about year-end schedules begins to trickle down from management as summer fades into fall. Donghyuck finds himself shuttling between continents and units, cheering on Dream activities from a different time zone. When Dream’s solo concert is confirmed, their group chat explodes with memes and stickers. Even the 127 and WayV hyungs start talking about their plans to be the most embarrassing fans of all.

Mark is as pumped as anyone at the start, until he realizes his SuperM tour makes it literally impossible for him to be there. Later, Doyoung tells Donghyuck that he found Mark and Taeyong drowning in timezone math trying to figure out how to make one of the three dates. “Those idiots,” Doyoung says fondly. “As if the company would have let them risk it even if the flights did work out.”

It’s a rare evening where no one has a schedule or practice, and they’re cooking in the fifth floor dorm. Doyoung’s in charge, but Donghyuck has been allowed to assist in the capacity of (in Doyoung’s words) “actually competent help.” The rice cooker has already sung its tune, and a pot of soup is simmering while Doyoung finishes the last of the sides. The other members occasionally pop in, hoping for a bite, and get shooed out before they can set things on fire. 

(“That was one time, and it was Haechanie,” Yuta points out. Doyoung still sends him away empty-handed.)

“It’s not fair, hyung,” Donghyuck whines.

“You can say that to me but not to them,” Doyoung says, pointing his cooking tongs at Donghyuck’s chest. 

“You know I know that.”

“I do.”

Donghyuck lowers his voice a bit. “Mark keeps apologizing and I keep telling him it’s okay and then he apologizes again.”

“Talk to him about that.”

“I talk to him all the time!”

“Then you’re doing it wrong. Remember who had to switch rooms in the old dorm because you two wouldn’t stop fighting.”

Donghyuck feels his ears go red. Doyoung in particular will never let that go. “We haven’t been fighting!”

“Well, apparently you’re still not communicating very well.”

Donghyuck chews on that thought over dinner. After dinner, when the hyungs decide to watch a movie that he and Mark have already seen, Donghyuck latches onto Mark’s arm with the suggestion of busking. It’s an easy sell, though he has to avoid Doyoung’s knowing look as he pulls Mark away. They end up in Mark’s room, sitting on his bed and passing his guitar back and forth. Mark’s been working on a new song, and Donghyuck tries to help, but when that fizzles out, they begin to play anything they can remember. It’s not long before Mark gives him an opening, playing the chords for “Dear Dream” absentmindedly while Donghyuck responds to Renjun’s relentless texts with increasingly angry emoji.

“You know I really wanted to be at Dream Show.”

“I know.” Donghyuck puts down his phone, where Renjun has just written,  _ What did Mark say?  _ “And we’re sorry we can’t be at your concerts. Why do we keep going through this loop?”

“Now you do sound angry at me.”

“I’m not angry.” He reaches out to tug on Mark’s ear, because Mark’s flustered face is still impossibly cute to him. Mark barely attempts to dodge--a sure sign that something’s off. “Mark Lee. What’s going on in that big head of yours?”

Mark just shakes his head and looks at the floor rather than Donghyuck’s face. “I hear you. I’ll stop. It’s just--regretful.”

Donghyuck doubts this would meet Doyoung’s definition of communicating. He also can’t change that. It’s always been like this between him and Mark. They can spend hours together training or busking or watching movies. They can talk about their friendship to others. But somehow, it’s so hard to talk directly to each other about it.  _ Soulmate,  _ Donghyuck likes to joke, just to make Mark react. But even that’s a deflection--one that Renjun keeps calling him on lately--and it’s become such a habit that he sometimes forgets how to stop joking.

He shifts a little closer to Mark so their knees are just barely touching. “How about XOXO?”

It’s an out. Mark takes it.

* * *

Donghyuck can feel the emotional and physical strain of three straight days of concerts in his bones, and his eyes are stinging from tears, sweat, and melted eye shadow as he blinks into the stage lights. He can see Jeno comforting Jisung, and he’s just told an entire stadium of people what he hasn’t sincerely told Mark to his face--that he misses him in Dream.

“I don’t think these kinds of memories will come again in the future,” he says, as he wraps up his ment. He feels very grown up, facing reality in front of the fans. He hates it.

There’s a company meal after the concert wraps, and Donghyuck is half asleep and maybe a little tipsy when he collapses into the extra bed in Jeno’s room. His phone is dead. In the morning, he borrows Jeno’s charger until he has enough power to read all the messages that he missed. 

There are congratulatory notes from family and school friends, from industry acquaintances that he greets in the hallways at music shows, from the other Neos, from seniors at SM. Johnny sends him a truly funny clip of Doyoung reacting to the news that Jeno pulled off his shirt. Taeil tells him to find a good restaurant where he can treat Donghyuck to a meal. There’s a voice note from Taeyong telling him he’s done a good job--that’s Taeyong, always the leader--and Donghyuck can almost feel the friendly pats on his head and shoulders as he listens to it. Last but not least there are Mark’s messages in the Dream group chat. As promised, none of them is an apology. 

Donghyuck is sure that Mark’s seen the video of their teary-eyed ments. The NCT gossip network is pretty speedy, and he knows their fans well enough to guess that those clips are probably spreading on SNS, too. Mark doesn’t mention them, but his message to Donghyuck alone is enough. It’s not  _ Good job _ or  _ You’ve worked hard _ or even  _ I miss you.  _ It’s  _ I miss performing with you,  _ which is somehow even worse.

Renjun finds Donghyuck with his face buried in his borrowed pillow. He’s kicking his heels up in the air.

“Donghyuck, we’re ready---oh. Okay. Do I even want to know why you’re doing that?”

“No.”

“Does it have to do with Mark? Most of your crises have to do with Mark.”

“No.”

Donghyuck doesn’t look up, but he’s pretty sure Renjun is rolling his eyes at the lie. “If you say so. I was sent to tell you that the dorm auntie’s finished making breakfast if you’re hungry. And just try telling him things to his face without joking for five minutes, okay?”

Donghyuck throws his pillow in Renjun’s general direction. Of course, he misses.

* * *

Here’s the thing: Even at SM--or maybe especially at SM--sometimes plans go spectacularly sideways.

* * *

Later, Donghyuck will try to remember when he first heard about the virus. Did he see it in the news, or notice it trending on Twitter, or overhear a conversation between the other members? What he does know is that he didn’t pay much attention to it at first, too distracted by the Dream Tour and year-end performances and the complete lack of any official word about the 00-liners’ future. There is talk of a major 127 comeback and a follow-up world tour. Donghyuck is tired of waiting. After the Seoul concerts, Donghyuck has admitted a truth--if only just to himself--that the end will be a relief. He doesn’t want these days to end, but this drawn out non-goodbye is even worse.

Except it doesn't end, as January stretches into February and March.

By February, his mother is fussing over his heavy travel schedule and sending him anxious reminders to double mask when he’s in airports and on planes. His younger siblings tell him to stay away from crowds. As if that’s even possible with his career. NCT’s still performing before live audiences as the world begins to slow to a halt.

And Donghyuck feels like he’s barely talked to Mark since January. Donghyuck had never really responded to Mark’s message after the third day of the Dream Show in Seoul, changing the subject instead to a question about schedules. Oh, they’ve seen each other plenty. In the weeks since, they’ve shared meals, learned choreo, recorded for the new 127 album, and prepared so much content for their YouTube channel that Donghyuck is not even sure what’s supposed to come out when. But it’s rarely been just them, one on one, the way it was in their trainee days when Donghyuck couldn’t leave the practice room until Mark also agreed to go home. 

He wants to ask Mark what he thinks will happen with Dream, as their activities continue to be scheduled. He wants to ask Mark how he did it, how he graduated with tears but no complaints, how even in that he managed to be SM’s golden boy. He wants to tell Mark that the stage still feels empty without him, even though they’ve adapted their choreography and line distribution to leave no missing spot.

There’s almost no one home when Donghyuck gets back to the dorm after his flight from Jakarta. He drops his suitcase in the room he shares with Johnny and sends a message to the 127 chat.  _ I’m ordering chicken. Who wants in. _ In the end, only Mark shows up, bleary-eyed, with flyaway hair and stubble on his upper lip, explaining he’s still a bit jetlagged after returning from London.

“I think the hyungs went shopping,” he says, looking at their silent chat where no one else has responded.

Donghyuck has a message directly from Doyoung.  _ Have fun with Mark!  _ Sometimes the hyungs are impossible. He sends a grumpy sticker in response, then tells Mark, “Their loss. More chicken for us.”

They talk about everything except work for a while, until Mark finally says, “They canceled Dream’s Japan show.”

“Hmm. But not Houston next week.”

“My parents were pretty worried when I talked to them yesterday.”

“Mine, too.”

“I think it will be okay,” Mark adds. “There aren’t many cases over there. It’s a big country.”

Even if there was, Donghyuck doubts the company would cancel or pull out of the show. They pulled a lot of strings to make it happen. He doesn’t have to say that to Mark, though, who already understands.

“One show. Stay in the hotel, fly back. Seems easy enough.” Donghyuck looks down the greasy box of chicken in front of him. “What if it’s like this for a while, hyung?”

“It might not be that bad,” Mark says, but even he doesn’t sound confident.

“And if it is?” Donghyuck has been spending too much time with Renjun, who is always a realist. “It could be months before we can have shows again.” He swallows and finally voices the thought that’s been haunting him since he got on the plane to come home. “What if Jakarta was my last stage with Dream?”

Mark’s brows fly up in surprise. “You don’t know that.”

“What if--”

“The company still hasn’t said anything?”

Donghyuck freezes. Apparently they’re finally having this conversation. “Not even when Jaemin finally got mad enough to ask.”

Mark’s face does some things that Donghyuck wouldn’t have thought physically possible. Then Mark says, “I’m sorry I’m asking this, but I honestly don’t know. What do you want them to say?”

Not many people have had the guts to ask him that question--his mother, Taeil-hyung, Renjun--and Donghyuck hasn’t had the courage to answer any of them. But somehow he feels like this time, this one time, he needs to answer rather than deflect. 

He whispers, because it’s a secret, a shameful secret. “I want it all, hyung. 127, Dream, U. What does that make me? I don’t care that it’s not fair to everyone else because I want everything. And more.”

Mark’s hands are warm when they reach out to cover Donghyuck’s own, but not as warm as his voice. For once, Donghyuck thinks, Mark is as charismatic offstage as he is on it. 

“It makes you just like me, Donghyuckie.”

That night, after everyone’s home and in their own bed and Donghyuck has endured a year’s worth of coddling from his excited hyungs, he thinks of a question he should have asked Mark during that moment when they were being honest. He sends it in a message before he can change his mind.

_ Did you ever tell them?  _

Mark’s response comes almost instantly.

_ They never asked. _

* * *

Eighty thousand people is an appalling crowd during a pandemic. Donghyuck thinks of that more than once after Rodeo, when they’re back in Seoul trying to promote Neo Zone. And on one of those days when their schedule is emptier than it should be because of the virus, one of the managing directors calls him into his office and asks him what unit he wants to be in.

Donghyuck is only expecting to be told what’s been decided, so it takes him a moment to find his words. But when he does, he speaks the truth. He tells the director how important both units are to him and how he’s vital to both in turn. “Dream and 127. I want to do both. I can.”

The director doesn’t argue, but he does probe. He talks about the overlapping promotions, the schedules Donghyuck will still have to miss. Donghyuck nods and doesn’t waver. And at the very end, when Donghyuck has been dismissed, he finds the guts to ask, as respectfully as he can, “Why did you ask me now, sir?”

The director is genuinely surprised. “You really didn’t know? Mark came and talked to me yesterday.”

* * *

It takes more than a little detective work, but Donghyuck tracks Mark down in one of the smaller practice rooms. Mark isn’t a bit surprised when Donghyuck bursts in, spluttering, “You could have warned me!”

Mark turns off his dance track and says, “What did they say?”

“What did they say to you?” And then Donghyuck realizes it’s the wrong question and corrects himself. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them what I should have said last winter,” Mark says, with a grin that’s too fearless for the awkward kid who’s been beside Donghyuck from the very start. “I told them that I wanted us together as 7 again. And that I thought maybe, just maybe, you and the others wanted to make it work, too.”

* * *

When you’re an SM artist, you know the company always has plans. But sometimes, just sometimes, it’s your dreams that matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my first fic, but my first fic in a rather long number of years. Comments are very appreciated!
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/intuitionist17)!  
> 


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